


the words that cause Death's defeat

by adroitstories



Series: and solves the riddle of life [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clone Centric, Gen, all romantic pairings are secondary, rex-centric, this is about war and the weight of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adroitstories/pseuds/adroitstories
Summary: At the beginning of the Clone Wars, an initiative is proposed that will answer if the clones are worthy of citizenship in the Galactic Republic.The question of citizenship for the Vod'e must still be answered after the Galactic Civil War.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: and solves the riddle of life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896331
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

Riyo Chuchi stared down at the datapad in front of her. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Her committee was being particularly intransigent, she mused, as she began typing. The insistence on all of this data collection, the plain bigotry of some of the other senators…it was enough to make her pull her hair out, sometimes. She knew she could contact some other senators, ones she knew were more sympathetic to her cause. Perhaps Senator Amidala, or Organa…

She shook her head. She had moved into her office only two weeks ago. She was still the newest senator, and as she understood, it was exceptionally rude to call upon more experienced senators unless you knew them personally. She’d been told that it was impossible to work with slighted senators. It was one of the many reasons she didn’t wonder at the numerous allegations of corruption that plagued the Galactic Senate.

So she kept typing.

Rex sat down in General Skywalker’s ready room, slightly puzzled as to why the General was in such high spirits. Ahsoka was there too, some strange light in her eyes.

The Jedi slid a datapad over to Rex, something akin to glee in his eyes. “Please read, Captain.”

Rex shot his general a confused look. “An Initiative to Investigate the Feasibility of Granting Cloned Beings Citizenship in the Galactic Republic.”

His jaw clenched. He looked questioningly at the Jedi.  
“Please, by all means, keep reading,” General Skywalker said. Ahsoka grinned.

Rex cleared his throat. “By Decree of the Galactic Senate, the cloned beings desiring citizenship will show the Senate proof of their intent and their accomplishments, including but not limited to—”

“—proof of advances in mathematics, architecture, astrophysics, xenobiology—I’m sorry General, but do we have to submit advances in all of these? Because I know my brothers are intelligent, but—”

General Kenobi laughed. “Commander, there will be time for questions afterwards. Please keep reading, it delights me to no end.”

Cody sighed and kept reading. “—xenobiology, mechanics, political science—”

“—visual arts, performing arts, fibrous arts, history—gods, General who wrote this thing? This list is longer than my—”

“Commander,” Plo Koon admonished sternly, though Wolffe thought he heard a bit of amusement in his voice. It was hard to tell, with the mask. “I do not believe that the initiative requires such colorful commentary.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes. “Of course, General. History, literature, music—”

“—material arts, aural poetry, fashion design, metal-crafting, weapons crafting, weapons designs…” Bly’s voice drifted off as his eyes moved forward. He looked up, puzzled, into his General’s brown eyes. His eyes most definitely did not trace the curve of her cheek and jaw as he did so, letting his gaze linger on the delicate ridges of her ear-cones.

“Sir, I’m confused. What is this saying?”

General Secura laughed, a low melodic sound. Her sharp teeth flashed, and Bly felt his stomach swoop at the sight.

“Commander, this is a proposal by a very young, idealistic senator, hoping to bargain for citizenship for the clones,” she said, her slight accent sliding over the syllables. “If you and your brothers can produce art, or other…proof of your humanity,” and here he thought he heard anger tinge her words, “then the Senate will be more amenable to granting you citizenship after the war is over.”

Bly sat back, dazed.

“Not that you should need to,” General Secura’s voice was dangerous. “You and your brothers have already given so much. But that is not how the leaves fell.”

“So all we have to do is make things? Anything at all? Even—”

“—and pardon the Huttese, sir, but even shitty pulp holonovels that I see strewn about the deck sometimes? Even trash like that?”

General Windu smiled slightly. “Yes, Commander. Even such…lowbrow literature would count.”

Ponds shook his head. “None of that from our legion, sir. Only the very finest creations from us, I think.”

General Windu frowned slightly. “I don’t disagree. Be mindful of the end goal, Commander. The Senate wants to see what the clones have to offer the Republic.”

“We can offer more than—”

“—our lives, huh?” Gree said, an uncharacteristic bitterness twisting his words.  
Commander Offee winced, and he mentally cursed himself. She was only a shiny, after all.

“I wish circumstances were different, Commander Gree,” she said sadly. But she attempted a small smile. “Perhaps think of it this way: this encourages you and your brothers—”

“—outside of the war, to have interests, hmm?”

Commander Thire wanted to say something sharp, remind the Jedi that they had no purpose outside war, but bit his tongue and clenched the datapad tighter.

General Yoda sighed, as if he knew what Thire was going to say. “Tragic, your reason for creation is. Believe I do, that full beings you are. Define you, this war does not.”

Thire took a deep breath. “So my brothers and I prove that we’re worthy of citizenship—”

“—and then what?” Keeli asked the Jedi. “What happens then?”

General Di smiled. “The Archivist at the Jedi Temple, Jocasta Nu, will curate them with the help of a team of dedicated soft-shells and Jedi archivists. Then—”

“—they will be released to the public and Senate. With discretion, of course. Consultants and experts will be given license to critique and analyze the creations, and give their opinions to the Senate. The Senate will then ensure the motion passes, or fails.”

Fox snorted. “Yeah, like the Senate will ever vote in our favor.”

Generals Adi Gallia and Quinlan Vos pursed their lips, and Fox stiffened slightly.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Generals. I am appreciative of Senator Chuchi’s efforts. I just don’t think it will be enough.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think it wouldn’t hurt to try, though,” General Vos said.

“If you have the time, I am sure she would appreciate knowing her efforts aren’t in vain, Commander.” General Gallia bowed, and Vos quickly followed.

Commander Fox sighed softly. He opened his comm line. “Stone, I need you for a few minutes.”

“What’s up, Commander?”

“We need to visit a senator.”

“Is it important, sir? There’s been an incident in the commissary again.”

Fox rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might roll back into his head. “Mas Amedda?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll go myself, then. Let me know if you need assistance.”


	2. Maridun | A Denial of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay there's a lot of thanks that need to go out for this. Thanks as always to my best friend. Thanks to various tumblr users who gave me the inspiration for some of my ideas. I think I'll credit them as I go along, in part because I am lazy af and don't want to track them all down now. I suck at knowing where everything goes, last chapter was a prologue.

_An artistic image is one that ensures its own development, its historical viability. An image is a grain, a self-evolving retroactive organism. It is a symbol of actual life, as opposed to life itself. Life contains death. An image of life, by contrast, excludes it, or else sees in it a unique potential for the affirmation of life. Whatever it expresses—even destruction and ruin—the artistic image is by definition an embodiment of hope, it is inspired by faith. Artistic creation is by definition a denial of death. Therefore it is optimistic, even if in an ultimate sense the artist is tragic._

_–Andrei Tarkovsky, Time within Time: The Diaries, 1970-1986_

_It was Homer who suggested we stand in time with our backs to the future, face to the past. What if a man turns around? Then the chorus will necessarily fall silent. This story has not happened before. Notice they do not dance again. Let the future begin._

_–Anne Carson, Nox_

* * *

22 BBY

The sun was setting over Maridun. Rex had long ago given up trying to look for the rapidly disappearing figures of Ahsoka, Bly, Flash, and General Secura. It was getting cooler. He had to start making a fire.

He knew what to do. There was enough fuel to keep a fire going for a short time, and Ahsoka had found twigs and dried grass, as well as some dried animal dung. He’d noticed how Ahsoka had smiled mischievously when he had raised his eyebrows at the proffered fuel. It would smell, and he would curse, but they would live. He turned back to General Skywalker’s prone form. Rex had tied on a bandage to stop the head wound from bleeding even more, but it was doing a poor job, and the bandage was already soaked. He sighed and replaced it, hoping it would stem the flow of blood.

He sat and took a sip of warm, tepid water. The world was entirely too quiet, the only noise the swishing of the tall grass and the crackling of the fire. There was a gentle breeze.

Rex hated it. And as much as he knew that this job was necessary (the General needed protecting because he was injured, and you never left a man behind), he was bored. He had already walked around the crash site twice. He had tended the fire. He had cleaned his pistols. All he could do was chat with Bly and Flash, and he knew they didn’t have the time to chat with him.

He glanced back at his general, bile and fear rising in his throat. He knew that the general had saved their lives. He knew that the general would do it again, that any good soldier would. Rex would have done the same if their positions had been switched. But this time was different. His injuries were…severe. Rex had learned to always bet on the general, but if Ahsoka, Bly, and General Secura didn’t come back in time…

Rex sighed. It wouldn’t do to keep reminiscing on those thoughts. He was a soldier, he’d seen death all the time. It was almost an old friend, by this point. War and Death, the oldest gods, or so Buir taught him. Just like in all those old stories.

Rex shook his head. He knew what he could do. So, he pulled out his datapad and began to write.

* * *

4 ABY

Pantoran Celebrity Gossip | THEN AND NOW: THE PRIDE OF PANTORA! PICTURES OF THE REBEL HERO AS A CHILD!

(left: Thael Chuchi, age 8, charming droves of Pantorans with an adorable smile, huge brown eyes, and unique black curls; right: Thael Chuchi, age 24, a tall, dark, handsome bachelor with a smile to make any being melt!)

Rebel Gazette | MEET THAEL CHUCHI: PANTORAN REBEL HERO!

A look at the man who led the insurrection to free Pantora, and his daring exploits as commander in the Rebel Alliance.

Coruscanti Sun | EXTINCT NO MORE: HERE ARE THE JEDI KNIGHTS YOU NEED TO KNOW

The Jedi are mythical figures, once thought traitors to the Republic. Now they’re back. Here’s who’s who—from the founding of the Republic to the Clone Wars, here are the Jedi who shaped galactic history.

Pantoran Moon | 100 GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS OF VARIOUS SYSTEMS OUSTED DUE TO SYMPATHIES WITH EMPIRE!

The heroic efforts of the Rebel Alliance have exposed over one hundred local or sector politicians and officials who have secretly been working with the Empire!

Corellian Siren | MYTHS AND FACTS ABOUT THE JEDI—LUKE SKYWALKER TELLS ALL!

How much do you know about the ancient and mysterious Jedi Order? True or False: lightsabers can only be ignited by Jedi? Find out inside!

Naboo Politik | MON MOTHMA TO LEAD THE GALACTIC CONGRESS!

Senator-in-exile Mon Mothma elected by the Rebel Alliance to preside over the Galactic Congress! Representatives for the formation of new interplanetary government have been elected from their respective peoples from across the galaxy. Some more notable names include Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, Master Jedi Luke Skywalker, Pooja Naberrie of Naboo, Garm Bel Iblis of Corellia, and Steela Gerrera of Onderon.

* * *

“You remember Senator Chuchi’s project?” Cody asked him.

Rex started, bumping his head on the speeder bike he was trying to tune up. He muttered a curse and rolled out from underneath the bike. “Gods, vod, you can knock before you enter a room,” he said, rubbing his head.

Cody smirked. “Constant vigilance, kih’vod. Constant vigilance.”

Rex huffed and rolled his eyes. “Honestly surprised I didn’t shoot you.”

Cody waved a hand. “You were too invested in the speeder. And you knew you were surrounded by vod’e.”

Rex shrugged and stood. In the hangar, he always kept a bottle of Mandalorian alcohol, for those nights where he needed a drink. He poured two glasses of tihaar and motioned for Cody to sit. “I gather this is one of those extended talks,” he drawled, sliding one of the glasses over.

Cody sighed, accepting the glass and sipping. He sat, savoring the alcohol. “Been years since I had good tihaar,” he said appreciatively. He leaned back and considered Rex. “Yeah, it is, actually.”

Rex tensed minutely. He looked down at his alcohol and swirled it.

“Eventually, we’re going to have to figure out what we’re going to do with, you know, not being Republic or Imperial property.”

Rex nodded in acknowledgement.

“A lot of the vod’e present have said that they want to join the New Republic—the ones with families mostly swing that way. Only a small fraction want to remain neutral.”

“Okay.”

“But there’s still a lot of vod’e out there now, holed up in Imperial strongholds.”

Rex closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, so?”

“They’re still vod’e, Rex. You know what it’s like. We should give them a chance. They should get a chance to decide their future.”

Rex groaned. “You know that’s a bad idea, Kote. You know it is.”

Cody crossed his arms. “Why?” he said, in a neutral tone.

“Do you even need to ask?” Rex sighed. “They’re Imperials. They’re stormtroopers. They chose their side. And a lot of the younger ones don’t even have the chips as an excuse.”

“Like haran they chose their side,” Cody snapped. “The side was chosen for them before they were decanted.”

Rex tried again. “No one’s going to help them. No one will offer them clemency. It’s not politically favorable to do that.”

“We have powerful friends now,” Cody argued. “We have honest, good politicians on our side this time.”

“We did last time, too, and they’re just individuals,” Rex pointed out. “No guaranteeing that anyone would support us this time. Most people hate the Vod’e. It’s just the way of the galaxy.”

Cody gawked at him. “You don’t even think we should try?”

Rex scowled. “I’m saying we shouldn’t ask for miracles.”

“Oh? Whatever happened to ‘rebellions are built on hope’?” Cody asked in that infuriatingly polite tone.

“Yeah, rebellions,” Rex emphasized, speaking slowly, “not new systems of interplanetary government.”

Cody shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe you,” he said softly.

Rex threw up his hands. “And what happened to you?” he asked, voice sharp. “What happened to the Kote who followed orders without question, who was loyal to the very end, even when I _knew_ , we _knew_ , something was wrong.”

Cody glared at him. “Umbara happened. Order 66 happened. I helped enact genocides against my will. And by some fucking miracle, I am still standing here, and I am still responsible for my kih’vode. It’s up to us to give them the choice to leave. They might not know they have that chance,” he finished softly. “I mean, back in the GAR days, did you think you could leave?”

“That was different,” Rex snapped, eyes flinty. “I wasn’t slaughtering innocents. I had a chip in my head.”

“We all have had or still have chips in our heads, kih’vod.”

“And I could leave, if I wanted to,” Rex continued. “I didn’t because I believed in the Republic.”

“And how much of that was brainwashing?” Cody asked gently.

Rex stood suddenly, knocking over the stool he had been sitting on. “Don’t do this,” he hissed. “Don’t take away the few choices we did have and chalk it up to brainwashing.”

Cody chuckled, an old, bitter sound. “Wasn’t it, though?” he asked. “Were we told some jetii wouldn’t care about us? Did anyone tell us that senators and politicians cared more about their coffers and power than their people? Were we given honest opportunities to leave, and not be penalized for it?”

Rex thought of Gregor, then, and he closed his eyes, awash in memories.

“Could we say no without fear of punishment?”

“You know damn well we couldn’t,” Rex exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“So how was any of it a choice? How were we better than slaves?” Cody asked, still gentle.

Rex slammed his hand down on the workbench, shoulders shaking. It was a testament to their friendship that Cody didn’t flinch at the sound.

“Why did you ask about Senator Chuchi’s project?” he asked finally, when he had recovered his voice. It was strained and brittle.

“Because I think it’s a good idea to revisit the project. Like I said, many of the vod’e who are here now want to be a part of the New Republic. We were never granted citizenship, so we would still have to petition the New Republic for it, you know, make the case that we’re not property. And like you said, public opinion is not going to be in favor of this. So we need a massive PR campaign. We need to demonstrate that we’re more than soldiers, that we’re more than our capabilities to follow orders. So I’m asking again—did you ever get around to doing things for the project?”

Rex looked away and took a deep breath. “No,” he answered.

Cody looked shocked. “ 'No’?” he asked, disbelieving.

“No,” Rex echoed. He shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Cody pressed his lips into a thin line. “I am disappointed that you lied.”

Rex’s breath hitched for a half-moment.

Cody shook his head and stood, laughing in disbelief. He downed the rest of the tihaar. “I can’t believe you would lie to me, Rex. And I can’t believe you thought you could get away with it,” he said, his voice steely. “You’ve never been able to lie to me. Never. You think twenty years and another war could change that?” He started walking away, shaking his head and chuckling bitterly.

Rex just stared after him, throat tight and his heart heavy.

* * *

Pantoran Moon | THAEL CHUCHI ATTACKED! –26 hours ago

The rebel leader reported to have been attacked in the early hours. Injuries include bruising and minor burns from blaster bolts.

Rebel Gazette | THE PRIDE OF PANTORA MUGGED ON HOME PLANET! –22 hours ago

The attackers are currently still at large. Commander Chuchi confirms that he is in good health, with minor injuries only. He assures us, however, that his attackers were not so lucky.

Celebrity Gossip | THAEL CHUCHI SEEN LIMPING TO HOSPITAL IN EARLY HOURS—A PARTY GONE HORRIFICALLY WRONG? –28 hours ago

Pictures taken at the scene confirm Thael Chuchi was hobbling towards Pantoran Central Hospital in the early hours. Could it have been a Rebel celebration turned too rowdy?

Pantoran News | Pantoran Evening News with Boz Tull: EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH THAEL CHUCHI AFTER VICIOUS ATTACK! –42 minutes ago

“Hello, and welcome to the Pantoran Evening News! I’m your host, Boz Tull. And our special guest today is the Pride of Pantora himself, Thael Chuchi!” The broad, white-haired, smiling Pantoran turned to the young man next to him. Thael Chuchi was a tall Pantoran, with close cropped black hair. He smiled and gave a small wave to the camera.

“Hello Pantora! Good to be here! I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

“First off, I want to ask how you’re doing today.”

“I am well, thank you. I was, thank the gods, quite alright. I only suffered minor injuries.”

“Well, being a hero in the Rebel Alliance will get you that kind of training, huh? Especially dealing with over five attackers, isn’t that right?” Boz asked.

Thael shrugged. “I am thankful that I had the ability to deal with this attack, yes. Although I would hardly call myself a hero—I simply did my part to rid the galaxy of an unimaginable evil.”

“I think you’re too modest! It seems a family tradition—your mother also fought against the Emperor in her day, although we knew him under a different name, back then.”

Thael grinned broadly. “My mother, Senator Riyo Chuchi, taught me everything I know about good and evil, and she taught me that it is important to stand up to evil wherever it lurks. She is a wonderful, amazing woman, and I’m very lucky to have her for a mother.”

“Yes, she is an amazing politician, though perhaps not an ideal Pantoran.” Boz Tull nodded.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not understanding your meaning.”

“She never married.”

There was silence. Thael’s bright smile had frozen on his face.

“I hardly think that’s an appropriate topic for the news, Mr. Tull. And in any case, my mother has spent her whole life serving the Pantoran people. I can hardly think of anything more ideally Pantoran,” Thael remarked neutrally.

“No, no you’re absolutely right. My deepest apologies—you know how traditional Pantoran society is,” Boz Tull shrugged. “I’m still learning. And you’re a decorated hero besides, the Pride of Pantora. In any case, do you have any idea why you might have been attacked?”

“I suspect it was because I sided with my fellow soldiers and family, against my fellow Pantorans. My friends were being insulted and deprecated, and I had harsh words for those who would say such terrible things.”

“Your family?” Boz Tull’s eyebrows raised. “I wasn’t aware of any of the Chuchi clan who also fought in the Alliance.”

Thael set his lips primly. “I speak of the Vod’e soldiers who fought bravely and honorably beside me in the Alliance. Many, many of the Rebel recruits were Vod’e, if you didn’t know. There are bonds forged in war that are as dear to me as my familial ties.”

“I see. Although speaking of familial ties, please clarify something for me, you’ve been out of the public eye for a long while. I see your clan markings are fresh—most Pantorans receive them at the age of puberty. It’s a rite-of-passage for all Pantorans. You are a grown man—why did you wait to get them tattooed?”

Thael nodded in understanding. “Certainly. As you know, I was involved in rebel activities since I was a young boy. When I reached the age of puberty, I decided it would be more expedient to not have my clan markings displayed, as that meant I could work without fear of reprisal for my family. You know, that many of the galaxy cannot tell between different blue-skinned humanoids.” This earned him a chuckle from Boz Tull, as well as an exasperated eye-roll. “Then I got them done recently, as the Empire has well and truly fallen.”

“I see, thank you. Your mother has the same ones, on her cheeks that you have. Can you tell us more about the one on your forehead?”

A hesitation. “That is for my father, who I’ve never known,” Thael said softly.

Boz Tull looked both sympathetic and affronted. “You think it’s appropriate to honor your father in such a traditional manner? Especially as that particular marking has only ever been used for great heroes and leaders of our people. Disregarding tradition, one we hold most sacred, is tantamount to spitting on our society. Surely you must know of the talk and gossip.”

“My father, through no fault of his own, was unable to be involved in my life. I do not hold that against him, and so I honor him in the ways of our people. And according to the stories my lady mother, a paragon of truth and justice, has told me, my father was a leader of his own people,” Thael said. “And besides, I think that the Pantoran public has better things to do than to gossip about one minor celebrity.”

“Oh, I think you underestimate your own popularity, son. And I’m sorry to hear that about your father. Do you know what’s kept him from being involved in your life? Children are of the utmost importance to Pantora.”

“I hope to ask him one day.” Thael smiled, though there was no warmth in it.

“I see, I see, please forgive my prying. I fear I’m straying off topic. Do you have anything to say to those who attacked you? Do you condemn them? Do you forgive them? Your mother was a proponent of peace, in her day.”

There was a beat.

Thael considered his words carefully. “Those who attacked me are angry, and rightfully so. So many have suffered under the rule of the Empire, and that grief and rage needs outlets. However, targeting me, or other people with close ties to the Vod’e, are angry and misguided at best, and outright bigoted at worst. Many of the Vod’e are heroes, and I can personally vouch for hundreds, if not thousands of them. They are competent soldiers, but more than that, they are fully sentient beings, and it is horrific that many don’t see them as such.”

“You defend them valiantly, Mr. Chuchi.”

“As I said—they are my family, our bonds forged in the storms of war. To do anything less is the height of disloyalty.”

“But there are many Vod’e who are still fighting on the side of the Empire, scattered and disparate though they may be, yes?” Boz Tull pressed.

Chuchi sighed. “To my knowledge, that is an accurate assessment.”

“They are not heroes, in your estimation? Just to get a full picture of your thoughts.”

Thael Chuchi thought for a moment. “I believe that many do not have a full picture of what the Vod’e endure, and what compels them to be Imperial soldiers.”

Boz Tull frowned, scrunching his brow. “To some, that sounds like apologism, Mr. Chuchi.”

Thael Chuchi raised an eyebrow. “It is absolutely not—and please think before you make such asinine accusations. I am hardly a fan of the Empire—I will remind you that I am a Commander in the Rebel Alliance, as you have seen fit to forget.”

Boz Tull waved his hand. “There are many legitimate questions that people have, though. For instance, it has not escaped attention that your hair is distinctively curly, unlike nearly any other Pantoran.”

“I can’t claim to be an expert on genetics, Mr. Tull. I’m sure you understand.” Thael shrugged.

“Also, your skin is darker than other Pantorans, and your eyes are brown.”

“An aberration, rare, but well within the norms for Pantorans, I would assume.” Thael’s smile was bright, but his eyes were sharp. “What I would like to talk about currently is the public’s opinion on being a part of the New—"

Box Tull interrupted him. “And then there are rumors, rumors that I would never deign to repeat, of course. Vicious tales, ones that impugn the honor of your mother, and your integrity, asking what such a loose woman would be doing, whoring herself with Imperial soldiers—”

Chuchi stood, eyes flashing. “Do not speak ill of my lady mother.”

There was a freezing silence.

“My sincerest apologies, Commander. I’m simply reiterating the public’s need for answers about your ancestry. The public, I’m sure, finds it imperative that no Imperial sympathizers are in power, else we might slide back into having an Empire again, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Your dedication to the needs of the public are admirable indeed, thank you. And I am needed on other Alliance business. Thank you so much for your time.”

“Of course, Commander. May your way be filled with light.”

Thael Chuchi simply turned on his heel and left the interview.

* * *

“What the hell was that?” Wolffe growled when Thael came into view. He gestured to the opposing booth, and the other man took it. The club music was too loud, perfect for private conversations, and although he had only one eye, the flashing lights gave Wolffe a headache. Jek just nursed his ale, eyes scanning the room.

Thael shrugged, his eyes flinty. “Hell if I know, Wolffe,” he snapped. He ran a blue hand through his short hair. “They’ve never been like this before—not even when I was a child were they like this.”

Wolffe huffed. “I hate politics.”

“You and me both, ba’vodu,” Thael said softly. He groaned. “I don’t know how my mother ever did this. Ugh, I need a drink.”

Wolffe slid a glass of whiskey to the Pantoran. Thael accepted it gratefully and took a swig.

“She’s not gonna be happy that you lost your temper on an interview,” Wolffe said.

“Oh gods!” Thael buried his face in his hands. “She’s gonna see that! Gods and stars…”

Jek straightened. “I still say that we should have fought.” His eyes were hard.

Thael just rolled his eyes. “Ever the confrontational one, ori’vod. No, it was better that we didn’t. I handled it, and we’re all fine. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, and then you and your mother get humiliated on the HoloNet because some shabuir wants to take cheap shots at you, I mean come on,” Jek argued. He leaned back, his short lekku hitting the back of the booth. “Just saying. Next time, we do things my way.”

And his comm rang.

Thael looked at the ID and winced. “That’ll be mother. Wish me luck,” he said as he downed the last of the whiskey and stood.

“Jate’kara, vod’ika,” Wolffe said.

“Jate’kara,” Jek echoed.

When Thael answered, he was greeted with his mother’s tired eyes. Gods, he hated that look on her.

“Hi Mom,” he said sheepishly.

“Hello, Thael,” she said in response. “How are you?”

Thael snorted. “Thought I could handle an interview, and apparently not,” he said bitterly.

“Its not your fault. To be completely fair to you, that type of talk hasn’t been said publicly since you were born,” she said simply. “It would have been too crude to say those types of things when you were growing up. And besides, you know Boz Tull is an old family friend of the Cho’s.”

“I know. I know. I just wanted to blast him when he said that,” Thael scoffed.

“Little one, you know that you can’t solve all your problems with blasters,” Riyo chuckled. “I taught you better than that.”

Thael smiled. “I’m a Commander, mother. I outrank you,” he teased.

Riyo’s eyes sparkled. “Young man, you know better than most that senators outrank all military,” she laughed.

Thael smiled, and then he shook his head. “You think we should make an announcement soon? It’s not like they haven’t already figured as much already.”

“Mm, yes, your ‘family’ comments were made in poor taste.” Riyo narrowed her eyes. “And you didn’t say the proper goodbye.”

Thael rolled his eyes. “He was rude! He didn’t deserve a proper goodbye, not when he was slandering you on the HoloNet!”

Riyo sniffed in response. “In any case, the atmosphere at the Congress right now is tense. There’s already so much to worry about, with the hyperlane rights under dispute, currency issues, the issue of relocation for refugees, reparations for the Jedi and other survivors of attempted genocide. Not to mention, we haven’t even quashed all of the Imperial footholds yet. Everything’s a mess right now. Really, the last thing the Congress needs to worry about is the question of the Vod’e.” She sighed and massaged her temples.

Thael could see streaks of gray in her lavender hair.

“Let us worry about Imperial strongholds, Mom. That’s my job.”

“Thank you dear. But as to your original question,” she continued, pinching the bridge of her nose, “know that I trust you. I taught you enough about politics for you to have a clear eye. We have friends enough that will help us should we needed it. I’d probably be asked to resign from my current post, but Ambassador Papanoida is a friend of mine, and she’ll listen to me.” Riyo sighed. “What I have noticed is that there are no representatives from the Vod’e here. I don’t know if that was an oversight or deliberate or if the Vod’e even have a representative they’d want to send. Princess Leia and a few others are firmly on the side of the Vod’e, so I imagine that must count for something if we have to make do in the meantime. I suspect that soon enough, the question of what to do with them will arise. I’ll get word to you and the others when I have more to report.”

Thael sighed. “Thank you, Mom.”

“I miss you, Thael.”

“I miss you too, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

* * *

22 BBY

_You are the stupidest bastard I’ve ever fucking seen. You do that again, I swear, I will slowly rip you from limb to limb and sloppily, messily, painfully sew you back together so I can do it again._

_I knew it too, from the first moment I saw you. That smug expression, the very punchable mouth, the easy, unearned confidence. You were new and had this predatory look in your eyes. Just from looking at you, I could tell that you were reckless and enjoyed the thrill of battle too much. You were the type of General who would get my vod’e killed. And I hated you with a burning passion for it._

_But you must’ve picked up on it with your jetii senses, because I remember you just raised an eyebrow at me, and I stared back, hard and true as beskar, and the act dropped immediately. You shot me a real, genuine smile, the kind that ignites dead stars. Not that it was an act, never, not totally. I understand that._

_You asked my name, and I was surprised. We had been told that nobody would ever see us as beings with names, only designations. And then you learned all my vod’e names’. We all know what we’d do, what we’d sacrifice for each other—that makes us vod’e. Do you know what they’d do for you?_

_And that’s the thing—you are stupid and reckless, but you are also the best general I could ask for, that any vod could ever ask for. And if I’m being honest, I’m just as bad as you. You bring out the best in me. I know I can handle anything you throw at me._

Rex stopped writing and locked the file on his datapad. He would have to ask the resident slicer to make sure no one could access it later. He heard a pained groan behind him, and dropped the tablet and stylus.

The general had attempted to get up, and Rex gently held the man.

“Have to get up,” he said weakly. “Get to the men…”

Rex sighed. “General, it’s better that you rest right now. General Secura is coming back with help, soon.”

“Ahsoka?” General Skywalker croaked.

Rex nodded. “She’s helping. She’s fine, too, sir. You saved us all.”

General Skywalker smiled, one of those true, rare grins. Rex rolled his eyes behind his HUD. Self-sacrificing bastard.

“You okay?”

Rex nodded. “I’m fine, General. Now please, get some rest, or Kix will have my head.”

General Skywalker gasped, laughing. “Kix is not that bad.” But he nodded carefully and closed his eyes again.

* * *

4 ABY

Rex found Cody at the top of the temple, the stone slippery with night mist. He slowed as he approached. Cody was staring up at the stars, his back to Rex. The night was silent except for their breathing.

“Vod,” Cody greeted without turning.

“Ni ceta, ori’vod,” Rex apologized.

Cody snorted.

“I am sorry,” Rex emphasized. “Please look at me.”

Cody sighed and turned. His face was barely lit in the dim starlight.

“I’m sorry, too. I took it personally, and I shouldn’t have. It has been twenty years.”

“But we’ve never lied to each other. We don’t do that, as vod’e,” Rex said gently. “It’s just…hard.”

Cody cocked his head, patiently waiting.

Rex rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words. “For a long time, I thought I was the last one of us. I lost contact with Wolffe, and Gregor, and Bly, and you, and Ahsoka, and I was alone and abandoned and it just felt like I kept losing people. And it was…excruciating.” Rex took a breath. “I wrote letters, sort of. It was technically for the project, but it also wasn’t. To all of you. And I put everything into them, every ugly part of myself. And it…hurt, writing them. Letting others see them—” Rex shook his head. “I can’t do it.”

Cody nodded in understanding.

Rex sighed, relief blooming in his throat.

“And listen, I’ve got a plan, alright kih’vod?” Cody said. “I really hope I won’t need to ask you for those letters.”

Rex nodded. That was the best he was going to be able to ask for. “You want to share those plans? Maybe I can help,” he offered.

Rex heard the smile in Cody’s voice. “Maybe tomorrow. Come and look at the stars with me.”


End file.
